


you must've heard it from my best friend

by LSFOREVER



Series: Date Number One Through Forever [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Goodnight, Harry in Lace, Harry in Panties, Insecure Harry, Louis is lovely, M/M, No Smut, Perrie is nosy and wonderful, Shy Harry, What Else Do I Tag?, like always, though it's implied and thought about multiple times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:50:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSFOREVER/pseuds/LSFOREVER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Going on a first date with possibly the most perfect human being known to man has Harry more nervous than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you must've heard it from my best friend

**Author's Note:**

> _Loosely_ based off Begin Again by T-Swift. Title taken from [ Nero's Crush On You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWK6dQOdri0).

 

 

“Come on, Harry. You’re being slow on purpose,” Perrie whines from where she’s stood half in, half out of Harry’s closet. She holding a dark blue pair of slacks, a pair of black skinny jeans, and dark blue skinny jeans. A small frown is evident on her pretty face, contrary to what her eyes shine: happiness.

Harry, from where he was laying back on his bed, still in his sweats and jumper from his evening run, rubs his eyes with a sigh. He doesn’t want to get up, legs sore, lungs tired, but he has to. Perrie will be so pissed if he decides to skip out on, yet another, date.

“I know I am,” he replies. His voice has always been slow like this, low pitched. He kind of hates it; Perrie says it’s almost as attractive as when Zayn giggles. Almost.

“Well get your arse up then. You aren’t skipping again. Not for the third time _this month_ ,” she emphasizes. Harry rolls his eyes because, well. He has very good reasons for why he’s rain checked on the beautiful boy he’s become friends with over the past three or so months. When he sees Perrie looming over him, now looking quite a bit more irritated, Harry sits up and tries to smile a big smile for her.

It isn’t long before she smiles too and sits down next to Harry. Some of her curly, pink hair hits him in the face; it happens so often he’s used to it. And her hair is soft and smells like apples, so he actually kind of likes it sometimes.

“I don’t have to be there until 8:30 anyways,” he tries to reason with her, after a moment of silence. “It’s only 7:40. I have plenty of time to get ready.”

“7:44,” Perrie corrects him, eyeing the alarm clock on his bedside table. Again, Harry rolls his eyes. She’s always so technical about everything. Sometimes it’s annoying. Sometimes it’s cute. “And you still have to dry your hair and put it up and-”

“Perrie,” he interrupts. His hand comes up to rest on her shoulder, thumb soothing over it.

He feels a bit bad for her. Not only does she have to help Harry with getting ready for his date (she doesn’t have to help at all. Harry is perfectly capable, but she insisted, and he hates upsetting her), but Zayn has been gone since five in the morning the day before, and won’t be back until later the next day. His Mum is a bit under the weather, and his Dad is off on the business trip in Japan, Harry thinks is where Zayn said, so Zayn ended up going home.

So Perrie’s been missing him. Harry loves her dearly, though, for taking time away from talking to Zayn on the phone or texting him, so she can make sure he doesn’t look like a complete fool.

“We’ll be fine.” Harry sees the slight panic slowly washing out of her eyes, being replaced with something he understands completely; she misses him, a lot. “He’ll be back before you know it, ‘kay? Now why don’t we go get me all nice and pretty, yeah?”

He doesn’t want to go out, wants to stay in and eat ice-cream with Perrie and prank call Zayn. But he knows going on this date will make her happy, and letting her help will make her even more happy.

And Harry loves pleasing people.

“Dark blue ones,” Harry picks, pointing to the dark blue jeans that is still entangled with the other two pairs sitting in her arms.

“Yeah? And what shirt?” Harry groans, after she drops the jeans in his lap. She hops up, and runs back to his closet. He cringes when she drops the other two trousers in a heap on the floor, knowing they’ll be all crinkly and he will have to iron them. Again.

The look of excitement Perrie sports makes all those worries fly out the window, so Harry gets up to look for a shirt with her. “Ah, no,” she says before he’s even half way to his closet door, stood in the middle of his small room. “Get your kit off, start getting dressed. I still have to figure out what to do with your monstrous hair.”

Not ten seconds later, when Harry is about to pull the trousers on, a new pair of pants is thrown in his face, dropping to the ground in front of his feet. They’re dark green and lacy, a pair he hasn’t worn in a year almost.

All his knickers have been stuffed in the back of his underwear drawer for however long now, not forgotten, but not wanted either. “Perrie,” he says in disbelief, slowly picking them up. They’re still just as soft as he remembers, and he loves that.

When he looks up, Perrie is back to looking through his shirts. “You never told me why you stopped wearing those,” Perrie says, like she knows he’s looking at her, even though she’s facing away. Every so often, she will pull a shirt off the hanger, stare at it for a bit, then put it back with a frown.

“Cayden didn’t like them,” Harry admits, feeling his cheeks heat up as he quickly looks back down at the knickers. “Why do I have to wear them anyways? It’s not like anything’s gonna happen.”

“Harry, you love wearing them. You should wear them anyways, even if nothing is going to happen. Wearing those used to always make you happier.” She didn’t say anything about Cayden, which is surprising.

Even though he knows there was a chance people will see them, his jeans always riding down just the tiniest, Harry pulls the Tommy Hilfiger’s off and slides the green knickers on. The soft material feels really good against his pale skin. He’s not used to them, not in the slightest, not like he used to be, but they fit snug over his cock and feel really nice on his bum.

Perrie bought him a pack of them for his Christmas stocking a couple years ago, which included these very green ones. Each pair, the green, bay-blue, and black all are made of the same soft, stretchy material that most other panties aren’t. He still hasn’t been able to figure out where she bought them, but each year for his birthday and for Christmas she buys more.

Next were the jeans, which shouldn’t have taken as long as they did to pull up over his long legs. They feel tighter, compared to the last time he wore them, a long time ago, which means he’s gained weight. He doesn’t care, it isn’t much anyways, since he’s still able to fit in the jeans he got at Burberry with his Mum forever ago.

“Just a plain shirt then, with your grey jumper you just got.”

“Sure,” Harry says, making sure the jeans hide the knickers well enough. If not, his sweater would. He’s always liked silky material, any soft material at all actually. One year he saved a fourth of every one of his checks, just so he could buy Cashmere scarves for himself, Perrie, and Zayn. “Never mind,” Harry says suddenly, pulling on a plain black v-neck.

“To what?” Perrie asks, confused. Harry, now in the closet, takes the sweater from her and puts it back on the hanger. Then he takes his dark green trench coat (oddly the same color as the knickers) off its hanger and drapes it over his arm, reaching up to the top shelf to grab the scarf. A dark grey and black plaid pattern. “Wow. Good choice. Are you actually excited to go now?”

“Haven’t worn the scarf in a while,” Harry says instead. “Now come dry my hair.”

-

At exactly 8:10, Harry’s kicked out of the bathroom, his hair all dry and pulled away from his face by the soft scarf. Perrie, right behind him, is pushing him out of his room and down to the front door of their flat.

“The black boots,” she commands. Harry obeys, stepping into them and adjusting his jeans so they stretch over the tops while Perrie sprays on some of his expensive perfume. He pulls the coat on, checking his phone while Perrie buttons it up, and makes sure it isn’t lopsided.

Zayn texts right before he leaves.

 

**good luck hun dont be to shy <3**

_I’ll try, ta_

“You’re good then. And you have plenty of time to walk down to the café,” Perrie states, brushing off nonexistent dust from Harry’s shoulders. She looks too proud, like she’s going to cry like a mother sending her son off on his first date. This isn’t Harry’s first date, not at his age of 23. Far from it.

“Thanks, Pez.” Harry wraps his arms tight around Perrie for a long few seconds, before she pushes him away and to the door.

“Don’t be late, Styles. Oh, and-” Harry looks back at her through the open door with his eyebrows raised. “Use protection.”

She winks, while Harry groans and runs down the hall and to the elevator.

He knows Perrie was joking, but it was still sort of... He doesn’t know. Those subjects are a bit touchy with him sometimes. He won’t need to use protection because he’s not going to be _doing_ anything like that. Not tonight, and hopefully not until after he’s in a serious relationship again.

Maybe. Whatever.

It’s a bit chilly outside, a bit windy too, but Harry’s curls aren’t flapping in his face, thanks to the scarf. He smiles at people as he passes them, surprised at how many people are actually out on a Wednesday evening like this. Shouldn’t most people be in Church? Or something else odd like that? He’s usually holed up in the flat.

Harry’s nervous. Fuck, he’s more than nervous. This will be his first date in how ever long, and not only is it just a date, but it’s with possibly the most wonderful man Harry’s ever met. So that makes him even more nervous. But, it’s only coffee at the café down the street, right? No need to be nervous. Harry’s hung out with this boy plenty of times. Granted it was in the company of Perrie and Zayn. Now it will be just them.

This will be the third time they’ve tried to do this, hang out together away from their friends. At first, Harry was way confused. Why would such an amazing person want to go on a date with him? Perrie was the one who had told him; she does work with the guy, so she sees him every day, and she talks to him every day. Harry didn’t believe her at first when she told him Louis had a crush. But soon enough, plans for a movie were made. Harry was able to get out of that easily, along with the second. But he knew he’d have to go sooner or later.

And it’s not like Harry doesn’t want to go; he does very much. A date with the most beautiful human being known to man? Hell yes. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself, though. He has a feeling this boy is only so persistent because he wants to get laid. Yes, Harry knows he’s attractive, but that’s not him, hooking up, no relationships.

Deep down he knows that’s not the case at all.

He can’t bring himself to admit it.

Harry half expects him to be late, and that he’ll have to sit there for a while, alone, and then will be expected still to go home with him. But to his surprise, he’s met with those bright blue eyes as he steps up outside the café that’s just a block down, and it’s still before 8:30.

“Louis,” he says quietly.

“Harry, you came,” Louis says back cheerily, wrapping Harry up in a tight hug. To Harry, he seems too happy for just getting coffee, especially on this almost rainy, gloomy day. But then again, Louis’ always been a cheerful guy. Harry hugs back, smiling at the nice smell of Louis’ fringe which is in his face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Harry could think of a few reasons, pathetic yes, as to why he wouldn’t come out with Louis.

Louis is looking up at him with one eyebrow raised, like he’s trying to figure something out. Harry blushes, ducking his head and smiling. Without realizing, his hand comes up to ruffle his curls around, a nervous habit, but then he feels the scarf and almost scowls at himself.

“Is that Cashmere?” Louis asks in disbelief, reaching up and feeling along the fabric. “Oh my gosh.”

“Um,” Harry’s eyes lock with Louis’. “Yeah, it is.”

“Coffee then,” Louis says after a few moments. Harry nods, feeling relief from not having to maintain eye contact anymore. Louis’ eyes are stunning. Harry would, if given the chance, stare into them all day. If he doesn’t blush like mad and have so many worries in his mind.

He’s led into the small café, the warmth and smells and sounds surrounding him. Not many people are here, just a couple uni students near the back and a few other people, besides the worker behind the counter. It smells sweet, and Harry loves it even more, now that he isn’t alone.

“What’re you getting, Harry?” Louis asks, sounding so proper, as Harry take his coat off and hangs it on the wooden coat hanger by the door.

Harry can’t help the small smile he sports as he looks over the many pastries and biscuits through the glass counter. “Just some tea,”  he says, reaching for his wallet.

“I’ve got it.” Louis places a hand on Harry’s forearm with a sincere and sure smile, making Harry’s tummy flutter. What even. “Come on, I’ve finally got you to come out with me, let me do this, yeah? You can find us a place to sit.” Harry nods, defeated, and takes a small step back as Louis pulls his own wallet out.

A small, two-person table near the front window is where Harry sits and waits. It’s a bit cooler near the windows and door, but it’s so pretty outside in this season and Harry loves it too much to pass up such a great spot.

When he detaches his eyes from the trees fluttering in the wind, he sees Louis is walking with two tea cups and a plate.

“Oh,” he says, feeling guilty, as he takes a cup and the plate from Louis so he isn’t juggling too much. “You should’ve let me help you.”

“You’re fine, Harry. I didn’t need any help.” When Harry knows for sure the cups and plate are secure on the table and is sat somewhat comfortably, he sees Louis is staring down at him with a small smile.

“What?”

The chair opposite him, not a match to his own, makes a squeak when Louis drags it over the linoleum floor as he goes to sit. Louis’ fingers look so soft and delicate, knows what they feel like against his scalp from the countless times him and Perrie have sat and just played with his curls for hours. Harry really wants to know what they would feel like on his skin. Gentle, spidery touches. Or maybe firm and persistent.

“Nothing,” Louis snaps him out of his fantasies. His neck heats up when he realizes he was staring down at Louis’ fingers holding the warm tea cup. Harry quickly averts his eyes down to his own tea, as he picks it up and takes a drink without caring how hot it is. It burns his tongue a little, but his fingers are warmer now, which he couldn’t be more thankful for, as his eyes travel back up to a now talking Louis. “Just find you very endearing, is all.”

Who uses the word endearing unless they writing a fictional story? Harry can’t help but almost smile at that. The only times he’s heard it is when he’s reading romance novels, or in mystery novels when the character is defining the mysterious, yet weirdly endearing stranger. He loves it.

“Thank you,” he whispers, eyes back down on his own shaking fingers. The plate has a very delicious looking croissant. It smells amazing and Harry kind of wants some now, instead of _just_ tea.

“Have some then.” Harry looks up to see Louis still staring at him with that same, wonderful smile. He pushes the plate towards Harry, who almost refuses. Almost. He can’t really, not when Louis’ smiling at him like that and looking so hopeful.

So he reaches forward, wincing at the cold hitting his fingers, and picks off the corner of the warm, flakey sweetness. A few crumbs fall to the table, but Harry doesn’t pay any mind to that, not when Louis’ staring at _Harry’s_ fingers like that, and now his mouth as he pops the fluffy piece of croissant into his mouth. It makes his eyes water, almost, at how warm and sweet it is. Harry hasn’t had any proper food besides fruit the whole day. It’s like a nice reward. Does he deserve it?

Harry knows he’s smiling, can feel his cheeks pulled up, at Louis. At the way Louis’ still smiling, yet his eyes are a bit darker and trained on Harry’s lips still. What really seems to get to Louis, is when Harry picks up the tea and sips at it some more. Louis’ eyes widen comically and they snap back up to Harry’s, who by now is blushing so hard he feels on fire.

Staying quiet, he keeps his eyes locked with Louis’, even though it feels a bit awkward with the silence. Louis’ eyes seem so lost in thought now, as he stares Harry down like he’s trying to solve the world’s eighth wonder. He likes Louis, of course he does, but he has no idea why or even if Louis likes him back. That is a bit weird to think about. Especially when Louis’ just staring at him, hands clasped and so close to Harry’s own wrapped around the tea cup.

Harry bites his lip and, finally, looks down, then out the window to see the wind blowing leaves around and shuddering the trees. All so beautiful. But not as beautiful as the boy in front of him. “Harry, are you alright?” Louis’ fingers do brush across Harry’s this time.

Harry bites his lip harder, as he looks back up at Louis, before sighing and nodding. “Just nervous I guess. Haven’t been on a proper date in a over a year.”

“So this is a date? Perrie kept telling me not to mention the word ‘date’ or you might freak out or something – wait. It’s really been a year?”

The look of concern is laced through the rest of the happiness in Louis’ eyes, and Harry himself smiles. Not only at the mention of Perrie, but also the disbelief Louis portrays. Like he could never believe Harry hasn’t had a proper date for so long, like it’s not possible. Harry nods anyways, despite not wanting to share too much. “Yeah, it has. Just never really got around to it.”

Lies. They’re all lies. Kind of. Harry hasn’t been on a date in over a year because… Well, he’s hasn’t been able to. “Oh, Harry,” Louis calls, a hand actually resting on Harry’s. He looks sad. Harry just looks down at the hand Louis’ placed on top of his.

“It’s alright though. I’m out now, aren’t I?” Harry doesn’t want an upset Louis.

“Thank you,” Louis replies, his thumb rubbing over Harry’s own thumb softly. But still firm. If that even makes sense. Harry doesn’t make sense to himself half the time. “For coming out with me. It means a lot… Perrie said she’s actually surprised you finally decided to come out.”

“When?” Harry snapped his head up. He hasn’t seen Louis with a phone the whole time. But that’s just like Perrie, meddling is her third nature, next to loving Zayn and loving people in general.

“She called after you left your place, saying you were actually on the way this time. She sounded so happy, yet so worried at the same time…” His eyes drop down to the table again. Of course she was happy, and worried, and was probably itching to gush all about everything to Zayn. “You’re so shy. Why is that? It’s just me, just Lou. You already know who I am.”

Harry is shy all the time, with everybody. He’s shy and awkward and is only ever fully comfortable and confident enough with himself when Zayn or Perrie are around.

Which saddens him to bits because he’s lived with them for a long while now, knows he must be burden for them to always be taking care of. But Harry can’t stand the thought of living alone, and he needs them. Needs them to love him and needs them to always be there for him. Those aren’t things he’s always had.

He shrugs eventually, staring out to the sky again. “ ‘s just a little different, when we’re alone I guess.” His hand squeezes Harry’s. It’s not like he knows Harry has more to say but is hesitant. But it’s still like a beckon, for him to continue. He does. “I’ve never really been good being alone with someone else.”

“You’re alone with Perrie and Zayn all the time,” he urges. Harry doesn’t like talking so much. Does he have a choice?

“I grew up with Perrie as basically a sister. And Zayn’s been my neighbor since secondary school,” he explains with a smile. He really does love them, almost as much as he loves his Mum and sister. How could he not? Perrie and Harry’s Mums have been best friends since they went to uni. It was obvious he and her would be best friends for the rest of life. And Zayn just fit into the equation so perfectly.

Louis doesn’t say anything after that, of which Harry was thankful for. He doesn’t need to talk about all his life and past and feelings. This is just supposed to a be a night out, right? Just some fun. Besides the small concern in Louis’ eyes, that’s exactly what this is turning out to be. Harry picks at the croissant a bit more, very aware of Louis’ eyes watching him, then he pushes the plate with half croissant left to Louis.

When he smiles up at Louis through long eyelashes, Louis chuckles and goes at the croissant, devouring it like it was his last meal or something. It’s very cute, opposite of the way Harry was eating it. Louis’ lips has small crumbs on them and even a few fell to his shirt, but Harry just found it all wonderful. _Now who’s the one staring?!_ Harry scowels at the little voice in the back of his mind.

“What’s your middle name?” Louis asks randomly, after finishing off the flakey treat and ridding himself of any and all crumbs.

“Edward. Harry Edwards Styles,” Harry answers. He can’t keep his eyes away from Louis’ hand still on his, is always glancing down and smiling internally a bit, while sipping at his cooling tea.

“Mine’s William.” Louis William Tomlinson. It sounds so formal, strong. Harry loves it immediately. “You know,” Louis continues suddenly. “I’ve been waiting to hang out with you for a while now. I’ve been nervous myself.”

“You were nervous?” Harry blurts out. Louis wasn’t nervous, he couldn’t have been. Louis’ so wonderful and confident and he could have any man or woman he wants, yet he was nervous over going on one measly date with Harry?

Harry knows he’s being too harsh on himself, but it’s an immediate instinct he wishes he never grew. He can’t bring himself to care either.

Louis nods, biting his lip, looking, well. Nervous. Right now. “And you’ve been waiting to hang out with me for a while?” Louis nods, again. No. Harry doesn’t believe him. But he’s not going to start anything, so he leaves it at that, drinking the last of his tea and sitting back in his chair.

“You know I had to save up forever to get this scarf. Along with Perrie’s and Zayn’s.” The best thing to do, in Harry’s opinion, is to change to subject. This is supposed to be a first date, probably an only date, and that means happy conversations and laughs and all that. Not serious shit Harry will regret later.

Luckily for him, Louis goes right along with it. With just a hint of a frown and worried eyes, Louis continues on the light talk Harry’s started. “Zayn and Perrie have some too? Does everybody have Cashmere except for me these days?” He threw his hands up in a playing matter, and Harry found himself actually, genuinely smiling.

“Not everybody. Just the billionaires and the people who are lucky enough to be associated with me.”

“Full of yourself much?” Louis plays with a smile. Harry’s knows he didn’t mean it in a rude way. If Perrie were here she’d be making so many sexual jokes and Harry would be redder than the neon sign of the bar across the street.

“No,” he replies. “I just love spoiling my favorite people with things they deserve.”

“And that includes Perrie? She’d so ornery,” Louis whines.

“She’s also been my best friend since the womb.”

Louis quiets at that. His face shows adoration, and Harry feels a bit uncomfortable now. It’s not that cute, that him and Perrie are attached at the hip, is it? That is part of the reason why she refuses Harry to move out until he finds ‘the one’ because she’s so concerned about him. He’s always complaining to Zayn that he’s perfectly fine to live on his own, that he doesn’t want to interfere with their relationship anymore. Zayn just laughs a bit and smiles and starts rambling about how perfect Perrie is.

Half the time Harry means it when he says he doesn’t want to be a burden anymore, when he says he wants to move out and let them have their own lives.

The other half, Harry regrets the words immediately. He doesn’t want to move away from them. They are his lifelines right now.

“Anyways,” he continues, because he can’t stand thinking about all of that. Not when he knows he won’t ever get his way.

“So what if I became one of your favorite people.”

Harry’s confused for about two whole seconds, before a grin crosses his face in realization. “So what you’re saying is, you’re going to become my best friend and eventually my favorite person, just to get a scarf too?”

“Oh god no,” Louis immediately says, his hands coming across to hold one of Harry’s. Harry tries to fight the blush because his hands are so soft and warm. Goodness. “I’m trying to become your best friend and, hopefully, favorite person because I like you, not because I might get a 300£ scarf. Although that would be nice.”

“Alright fine.” He sighs. There’s no point in just blushing harder, from the way Louis’ flirting. Might as well flirt back. “But what would I get in return, if I save up to buy you a _500£_ scarf.”

Louis scoffs. “Having me as a boyfriend should be enough for that.”

“I thought we were just talking about best friends and favorite people,” says Harry, who cannot for the life of him understand why Louis would want to be his boyfriend.

“Most of the men in my life that have been my favorite have been past boyfriends, and even then they weren’t my favorite.”

“Most?”

“Well there’re Liam and Niall. But they’ve been my best friends since uni, so.”

_Why did you ask me out on this date?_

Harry wants to ask so bad. He just. He wants to know. Because it’s something he is not used to. Louis’ been watching him the whole night with that sort of a smile, and it makes Harry want to crawl under his bed. Being watched, examined, _figured out_.

“Harry.”

He looks up from his hand, to Louis. Who’s staring at him, and asks, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, “Just thinking a bit I guess…” And so he decides to ask anyways. “Why’d you ask me on a date?”

Louis looks taken back. Surprised. He’s quick to… reassure himself it seems. “Did you not want to come out with me? I mean, Perrie said you’re into guys and I like you and – ”

“I do prefer guys,” Harry confirms. He squeezes Louis’ hand. “And you’re a wonderful person and I love hanging out with you. I was just simply curious as to why you wanted this date to happen. And since you said it’s because you like me, I want to know _why_ you like me.”

He seems much more happy now, with a larger than normal smile and sparkling eyes and Harry thinks he might regret asking that, if only a little. “Because, Harry. You’re just a wonderful person. I love your voice and your cheesy jokes and you’re very pretty.”

Harry’s blushing again; he can feel it heating up his cheeks and neck. He smiles the smallest of smiles. Only Perrie ever says wonderful things like that towards him. Zayn will call him sexy, and he’ll agree when Perrie is cheering him up with compliments, but hearing such a wonderful… praise, he’ll call them praises. Hearing such wonderful praises from such a wonderful man. Harry can’t stop smiling.

“You are too,” he says eventually, smiling down at his hands.

“Thank you. Would you like to go now?”

“Go where?” he asks, looking up, panicking a little. Perrie said they’d be at the café and that’s it.

“Back to yours. I promised Perrie I’d walk you home. She said you would like that.”

With a smile, Harry watches as Louis takes the cups and plate back up to the counter. “I would actually,” he says as he’s taking the hand Louis offered, and stands.

When Louis opens the door, Harry feels the cold, sees Louis’ coat, and remembers his own. Which is right behind him. He reaches up and takes it off the hook, bringing it around his body. “Here, let’s shut the door,” Louis says, and Harry follows him out while buttoning up.

Louis, to his surprise, pushes his hands away and finishes the last buttons at the top of his coat. Harry’s so impressed, and he really does like Louis a lot. So, “Thanks,” he voices.

Harry’s hands are cold, and as they start towards his flat, he stuffs them in his pocket. “Can I hold your hand Harry?” Louis asks suddenly.

He doesn’t want to take his hand out of his warm pocket, but Louis’ hand looks so warm in that glove. Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s when Harry takes it out. He doesn’t lace their fingers together, like most people would do. Simple hand-holding. Harry’s so happy.

“Will Perrie be there?”

Harry feels his stomach jump in a million different ways. “Most likely.” He hopes she will be. If she isn’t, there’s the slight chance that Harry and Louis will be alone in Harry’s apartment, and there’s probably a slight chance Louis will try something.

There’s a huge chance Harry will try something, if they’re alone. Louis’ just so beautiful. And he tells himself and Perrie and Zayn all the time that he doesn’t shag on the first date. Which is true. Except for the fact that Harry hasn’t been in bed with anybody for almost a year and Louis’ so sweet and very sexy.

“So there’s no chance in hell you’d let me suck you off, huh? Not tonight anyways.”

_Does Louis read minds?!_

Harry looks at him with wide eyes. Not because he’s offended, because he isn’t. It’s the total opposite actually. Now he kind of wishes, just a teeny-tiny bit, that Perrie did have somewhere else to be tonight.

“I’m only joking.” Louis cracks a smile, squeezes his hand. “Unless, of course, you’d be 110% okay with that. Then I would too… But I’m not going to force you into anything. I don’t want you to think you owe me at all,” he’s quick to add, with worry in his eyes.

They’ve stopped walking, Harry realizes, says, “Of course, I know you wouldn’t force anything,” because he now knows Louis isn’t that type of guy. Thank goodness. “I just. I don’t normally… not on first dates.”

“Right, yeah that’s. That’s perfectly fine, Harry. I don’t either, not usually. Although…”

“Although…”

“ _Although_ ,” continues Louis. He has a funny smile and a glint in his eyes and Harry bites his lip. Louis squeezes his hand, pulls him just a bit closer. “I’m willing to break that rule, just for you.”

“Why?” Harry’s in a trance. Louis’ so close, so warm and pretty. Harry’d like to break it, if only for tonight.

Louis hums, leans closer, _fuck_ , smiles wider. Eyes locked with Harry’s, he finally speaks, in a hushed whisper, even though the sidewalk is empty besides them. “After seeing those knickers of yours, I’d break any rule ever made.” He pulls Harry to start walking again.

Harry sputters, eyes wide, confused. “What? I don’t. I don’t know what you’re t-talking about. I, uh.” How in the hell does he know?! Did Perrie tell him?!

Louis answers his silent question. “I saw when you hung your coat on the coat hander. And when you took your coat down.”

Well fuck. At least he won’t have to yell at Perrie when he gets home. He will have to lock himself in his room and stuff a pillow over his face to stay quiet. That is, if Perrie’s home.

He sighs. He can’t deny anything now; Louis obviously saw the green lace he’s wearing.

“You aren’t wearing those just to get me in bed, right?”

“No,” Harry replies quickly. “No, no. I just like wearing them. I never intended for you to see them. Or know at all actually.”

“And what would you have done, if I didn’t know now. When we finally start being boyfriends and have a sexual relationship. I was bound to find out.”

“Would’ve just told you,” he answers with a shrug. When he looks up, they’re in front of his building. And his stomach is in his throat. “I-”

“I can kiss you goodnight here in the cold,” Louis starts, “Or inside, in front of your door. Your choice.”

Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket a few times. It’s probably Perrie calling him, or maybe even Zayn. He wants to throw his phone away and lock himself in his room, but with Louis, and the only place a pillow will come into contact with his body will be under his hips. Who cares if people would hear? He wouldn’t.

Instead of answering, because Harry cannot form words right now, Harry pulls Louis close. He can’t stop staring at Louis’ lips and thinking about his semi and wanting to be with Louis forever. With delight, he kisses him. Louis seems stunned for half a second, before his hands come to Harry’s waist and he kisses back.

“Both,” Harry pants after  pulling away. It was a brief kiss, didn’t venture further than a few swipes of tongue from both boys, but Harry’s happy about it. And he’s happy that he gets to hold Louis’ hand, while waving to the one person standing in the lobby, someone he recognizes from the floor above his.

Even more happy when Louis kisses him again in the elevator. And when Louis kisses him _again_ in front of his flat door.

Louis doesn’t even wait two seconds after pulling away to say, “Liam’s singing at this bar next Friday and I promised him I’d be there. Niall too.”

“Okay…” Harry has a vague idea of where this is going. He doesn’t mind one bit.

“Come with me. They really want to meet you and I really want to see you again.”

“I don’t fuck on second dates either,” he blurts. His eyes widen when he realizes what he said and he blushes, biting his lip.

Louis takes his lip from between his teeth with two fingers and a smile, kisses him quickly again. “Don’t worry. I’m not asking just to have sex with you. I’m asking because I really do like you.” He kisses Harry again, then says right next to his ear while hugging him, “If sex happens that’ll be nice and I’ll love it, but I want to get to know you first. Maybe even get to call you my boyfriend before I fuck that pretty little arse of yours.”

Harry squeaks, Louis pinches his bum, and the door swings open. “What’d you say to him?” Perrie asks Louis.

“Were you watching us?” Louis chuckles. Harry’s hot all over. Especially where Louis’ hand is resting in the small of his back. So close.

“Yes and you were too quiet in that last part,” she confesses.

“Oops,” Louis shrugs. He pulls Harry closer to his side and kisses his cheek. “That was meant for him anyways.”

Perrie gapes at him, at Harry. Harry rolls his eyes at her. “Why can’t I know what you said to _my_ brother?” she demands.

“Because he’s the one I want to be my boyfriend, not you. I’d better go anyway.” Louis looks up to Harry. “Perrie has my number. Call me?”

“Yeah,” Harry says a little breathlessly. Louis pecks him on the cheek, then Perrie too, who’s been awful quiet these past few seconds, then he turns, and with a wave, is down the hall. “I’m getting Louis’ number, then going in my room and you are not allowed to ask any questions until tomorrow, okay?”

She groans, but she’s smiling at him, and Harry is honestly surprised when she actually lets him be. With a hug and a quick “Goodnight Harry,” Harry is locking his bedroom door and falling back on his bed after shedding everything down to the soft green things.

He can’t stop thinking of blue eyes, and pink lips, and soft laughs, and before he finally goes to take the knickers off, Harry sends Louis a quick text.

 

_when’s Liam’s show and what should I wear? ;) :)  xx_

After Harry’s taken the lacy knickers off, has them lying next to his hip. Before he can even wrap a hand around himself, Louis texts back and makes him smile ten thousand times wider and shudder deep enough to shake the bed. Almost.

 

**idc as long as it invlolves lace & pink or black ;) x**

**or mybe both**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll write a part two, or I more. Maybe this could turn into a short story of some sorts. If someone wants to write half of it with me, or at least be a wonderful beta, this could maybe an actual chaptered fic. Maybe. ❤


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